The Boy in the Cafeteria
by helliex88
Summary: My answer to thatwritr's challenge- Bella as a boy...? One day across the cafeteria Edward sees a human boy with a silent mind and blood he desires like no other. He decides to befriend the boy but feelings grow and so must Edward's Victorian values. AU.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is very different to anything I've ever attempted. Please give it a chance.**

**Thank you thatwritr for helping me with the finer details and setting this amazing challenge.**

**Thank you cdunbar for betaing, getting excited, and supporting me so well. Couldn't have done this without you.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.  
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**Prologue

I wasn't normal, I knew that.

I wasn't your typical boy.

I couldn't get on any teams because I was too clumsy to be an asset. I didn't get included in 'guy talk' because I'd rather read a book than a playboy. And I didn't go on dates because I didn't like girls.

That thought used to terrify me, it confused me and isolated me. The realization of my sexuality hit me when I would see guys in my class in the showers. The water streaming over rippled muscles and skin bronzed by the Arizonian sun, caused my mind and body to react in ways that felt right and natural. Unexpected.

But then I grew up, I accepted it and moved on. Didn't mean others did. I no longer believed in 'normal', I no longer tried to define myself or be defined. And I tried to extend that courtesy to others. But I was only human and we all make mistakes.

I moved away, ran away, however you want to look at it. I still ended up in Forks, living with my Police Chief father. I told my mom it was so she could be with Phil. That is was because I didn't want her to worry about me, I didn't want her to sacrifice her happiness by staying with me while Phil was away playing ball. Her body may have been present, but Phil had taken her heart with him. But it wasn't just that.

Kids can be cruel. Scared kids, ignorant kids can be evil. And I had to get away. So I took refuge in Forks and I guarded my secret diligently.

No one could know, no one could find out. My father would never have to look at me in shame, and my classmates would never have to look at me in disgust. It would be too much to hope that I would find understanding, acceptance. Phoenix taught me that.

Luckily, no one in Forks had really caught my eye. There was no one I felt drawn to. Of course there were some who I could see as attractive, but none I desired. My reaction in showers was better hidden, I'd learnt to hide my want from them. That part of my self that could never be revealed was secret and safe.

Then I saw him.

Never had I been so amazed, never had I felt so lost. He was tall, graceful and fiercely beautiful. The self hatred I had tried to contain, I had tried to rationalize away bubbled up inside me. Never had I hated the fact that I was gay more. Because this creature with haunting perfection would never look at me with love, or desire. It would be too impossible for one such as him to return my affection.

So I watched in secret, sneaking glances when I could, and tried to make it through each day, knowing this man – because he was a man, not a boy like the others – could easily bring my carefully crafted life crashing down around me.

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**A/N: Please review even though it is just a prologue. Next chapter will be EPOV. **

**Thank you for reading.  
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	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: The story will be completely in EPOV and I have taken some liberties in regards to characterization to suit my plot. But not too much.**

**Thank you cdunbar for being the most fabulous beta anyone could ask for. And for starting a thread for this story on the twilighted forums.**

**The link will be on my profile.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.  
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My wall was made of glass.

I stood before it on my golden carpet and let the golden light shine upon me. It was dawn and the tinges of pale grey permeated through the inky blue expanse. Thirty minutes later a weak sun rose behind the verdant green of fir trees and struggled to light the sky. But as weak and pale as it was the day still began. The dark black night retreated, Artemis' moon retreated. Apollo's carriage ascended into the atmosphere slowly and steadily. He did not blaze in Forks. Nothing blazed in Forks.

Pale gold light filled my room, banishing the shadows as much as it could, like a child ordering a lion away. I concentrated on the feeling of the sun on my skin. The rays were not strong enough to warm me, but closing my eyes and focusing my sensory reception on the front of my body I could imagine I felt warmth. I could conjure up the illusion of comfort and security in front of the pathetic sun whose light we were meant to allow us guidance. I sighed heavily and turned my back on the wall.

I could hear the rest of my family move around our house, with the exception of Alice and Jasper. It was our first day attending Fork's High School, although only Emmett, Alice and I would be attending. Jasper refused to attend high school, understandable considering he was one hundred and sixty five years old. He was attending college along with Rosalie this year in Seattle. Rosalie's reason for not attending high school was her disdain for teenage humans. Particularly the boys. There was no opposition to her decision.

Therefore the respective couples were spending their last morning together before the constraints of our secret forced us to play children. I didn't quite understand why they were so adamant to make the most of their last morning considering they would still see each other everyday, just not every hour. But that was a mystery I was not privy to. I often heard in their minds how I could not possibly hope to understand until I found a mate. What they could not possibly hope to understand was how the likelihood of me finding a mate was extremely unlikely.

My 'gift' granted me access to all facets of the mind. Every thought. Every despicable, vile and depraved thought that ran through a person's mind was as clear to me as if they'd spoken aloud. I had long since given up searching for the good when the bad was so often laid bare before me. I merely tolerated now, and that was only extended to members of my family. Just.

A scratching of pen on paper told me Carlisle was in the study, a soft chafing sound added the presence of Esme. The two sounds were approximately six feet apart which allowed me to conclude Esme was sitting on the green leather chaise lounge sketching Carlisle as he sat behind his desk filling out paperwork.

I did not need to listen to the sounds they made to know this, however. Esme's mind told me she was sketching because I could hear her commenting on proportion and shadow. Carlisle's mind told me he was finishing a report on a patient called Mary Scott who was suffering from a chest infection that was worsening due to a delay in diagnosis. The fact she was an avid smoker had not helped her case. I could hear the disapproval in Carlisle's mind as he wrote down her smoking habits during the period of her illness. I had long ago given up telling him helping humans were a lost cause. They were vacant sheep who followed the path of others. They were too afraid to tread their own.

The sound of rhythmic metallic clicking told me Emmett and Rosalie were in the garage. Their thoughts told me they were working on a car they had bought together at an auction. An electric blue 1966 Shelby Mustang GT – 350"R" whose V8 engine was in a bad way. Rosalie was an efficient mechanic and Emmett was devoted to anything that made Rosalie passionate. They made a good team.

Alice and Jasper had gone hunting among the seething mass of trees, rocks and earth that lay along the boundaries of our property. They were beyond my range so I could not hear their thoughts and could only dimly hear their movements and voices if I cared to listen. Which I did not.

On the surface we moved together seamlessly, each member of my family was perfectly united with their partner and I was perfectly content with my solitude. I had the piano after all.

But surfaces are two dimensional and crooked. They have no depth or truth to them and those that believe them are fools. The unspoken thoughts and bitterness that ate away like a cancer at the heart of my family was an ever present evil to me. I heard every snide, silent comment that they did not dare speak aloud. But they were all aware I had heard them, that I alone knew the true nature of my family.

The ugly and harsh truth that my family desperately tried to hide and deny, and resented me for not allowing them to, was humiliatingly mundane. We beautiful, intelligent and strong immortals were just as petty as our fragile and ephemeral prey. I had long known that Rosalie would give anything to be human again, that she would gladly give up Emmett for the chance to live a normal life, the chance to be a mother. Even as she stood over Emmett's dying body and Carlisle's venom changed him she knew this. Emmett who she had run for miles with, holding her thirst back with all her tenacity as she ran toward his salvation and his fate. But what she didn't know was Emmett knew this too, and loved her regardless. He did not like her harshness and her vanity, he hated he could not give her what she wanted so desperately. But he loved her still. He stood by in silent sorrow as she watched mothers and their children, seething with jealousy. She often wished Carlisle had left her to die. And she resented the fact that Carlisle had measured her worth by her looks, that he deigned her good enough to save because he believed she would make me a suitable mate. Because she was a hurt and beautiful angel who he thought would ease my loneliness. This was just one example of Carlisle's compassion toward humans turning into folly.

Another was Esme.

Despite her joy at being reunited with Carlisle, the loss of her son and the brutality she suffered at the hands of her husband was frozen within her forever. She exuded love and care to all those who would allow her to shelter them under her wing in an attempt to fill the aching hole within her that was a mother's grief. She would never let Carlisle hear her sob. She would imagine phantom tears rolling down her cheeks in an effort to relieve the pain while Rosalie held her. They had things in common their mates would not understand. Even I with my insight and omniscience struggled to rationalise their pain. Jasper was the only one who could really know.

Jasper was our soldier.

He carried the burden of our family's pain. He felt Rosalie's bitterness, Emmett's sadness, Esme's loss and Carlisle's regret.

Alice and I just saw it all. I saw the fleeting thoughts and Alice saw the premonitions of their actions. She saw Esme decide to vent her aching heart when Carlisle was at the hospital, her decision to throw away the furniture she had accidentally broken in her lamentations. Alice saw Emmett decide to spring surprises on Rosalie, buy her gifts and cast loving actions upon her. I would tell her whether Rosalie appreciated it and whether it worked. Sometimes I wouldn't need to because her next vision would show her Rosalie's reaction. Rosalie's true reaction.

At least there were no secrets between Alice and me.

Alice and Jasper together understood me. Alice knew what it was like to see things that you didn't want to see. That your nature forced upon you. Jasper knew what it felt like to have others project onto you. I projected onto him myself. He once told me sometimes he couldn't tell where his feelings ended and the others began. When he became lost in the sea of emotions and could no longer tell who he was, how he felt and what he wanted, Alice would save him. They would disappear for periods of time where Jasper would bask in Alice's love and happiness. She brought him peace that I had yet to find for my 'gift'.

And when Alice would feel the weight of her visions, when we were in crowds and she would be surrounded by people making snap decisions, Jasper would save her too. His decisions were always methodical and well thought out. His strategic mind suited her. We stayed in small rural towns, not just for hunting purposes. The one time we had lived on a city's outskirts Alice had suffered terribly. Jasper refused to put her through that again and we started to plot out boundaries.

Alice's clear voice rang out in my mind and brought me back to reality, to my lonely retreat on the third floor of our house.

_Edward, Jasper and I will be back in twenty minutes. Carlisle will get a call in fifteen minutes saying he is needed at the hospital. An elderly patient has been admitted with renal failure. Please let him know so Esme can finish her sketch and show it to him before he leaves._

Alice and Jasper had wandered into my range whilst I had been lost in thought, staring down at the hundreds of fibres that made up the patch of carpet beneath my feet. I heard their thoughts grow stronger as they leisurely approached the house.

"Carlisle, Alice had a vision showing you receiving a telephone call in fifteen minutes requesting your help at the hospital. A patient has been taken in whose kidneys are failing. She also suggests that Esme should finish her sketch before you leave." I spoke quietly into my empty room, yet the recipients to my statement thanked me respectively in their minds. I crossed the room to the wall that housed my CDs. I pulled down a compilation I had made of classical music that suited my pensiveness this morning. I concentrated on the strains of violins rather than Carlisle's rapture over the likeness Esme had made. She was a proficient artist but the truth was Carlisle would praise anything Esme did to make her smile. Esme pretended that wasn't true, that he would compliment her because he truly liked it.

Denial was an ever constant comfort to my family. We denied our nature and we denied our feelings. Somewhere along the line, restraining our bloodlust had transformed into restraining ourselves. Rosalie was the only one who would speak out when the truth needed to be said. She was the bravest of us all.

I sat on my black leather couch. While I did not need the comfort, it helped me practice my humanity. I leaned back, closed my eyes and folded my hands in my lap. I basked in the music until I could see the lightening of my room through my eyelids, and the addition of two voices entered my mind indicating Jasper and Alice were home. When I opened my eyes the sun had grown stronger and risen slightly higher. It was approximately seven o'clock in the morning and to add the great illusion and mockery that was my life, I showered and dressed for the day just like every other human. The need to cleanse my body of natural oils that accumulated during the night while I slept was but a pretence of normalcy. Once more to help with the affectation of humanity, our family needed to protect our secret. However, this pretence became a routine after ninety years and I had long ago learnt how to mimic the human teenagers I lived amongst. It was an act that started out as something I would put on and take off again easily. It turned into something I could only shed when I hunted. Humanity had no place there.

The conversations and thoughts I could hear below me told me it was nearly time to leave. Emmett and Rosalie were tidying up the garage, the swift clanging of tools an indication of their speed. And then a swish of heavy material as a dust sheet was lain over the mustang for them to finish another day. Alice and Jasper were in their room cleaning each other of their hunt. One thing I'd noticed was that aftercare was an important aspect between mates. They enjoyed hunting together, but it was afterwards their emotional bonds were reaffirmed. They would cleanse the other of any residual blood, whether it was by licking it off or washing it off under the stream of the shower. It was an intimate and private act I hated having to bear witness to. Just one of many.

I decided I would go and wait for Alice and Emmett in Esme's studio. Hopefully she would distract me from their goodbyes.

Esme's studio was on the ground floor near the patio, facing south like my room. The glass wall and white interior made it the brightest room in the house. I descended the staircases and approached the door in a matter of seconds. Opening the plain white door, I stepped into the clean brightness of Esme's studio. She was standing at an easel bathed in light, her hair the colour of spun caramel shone and hints of rainbows glimmered on her skin as the pale sunlight hit her. Even though Esme was changed after me, she was still six years older and the closest to a mother I had had in years. I knew her grief and would never deny her natural maternal nature, even if I did not always appreciate it.

"Edward! Are leaving yet?" Esme asked in her soft, lilting voice, looking up from her easel and turning to me.

"Soon Esme. Jasper and Rosalie are just saying their goodbyes to Alice and Emmett. I thought I would give them as much privacy as I can by waiting in here for them with you," I answered, moving to sit on a faded upholstered arm chair reminiscent of our time living in Chicago shortly after Esme joined us.

"Edward, we know you cannot help it. You give us as much privacy as you possibly can and we greatly appreciate it." Esme smiled kindly at me and I merely smirked in response.

"It is not always appreciated, Esme. And my attempts at privacy are not always believed to be sincere," I said carefully, looking down at my interlocked fingers that rested in my lap.

"Edward-" Esme began in a tone that betrayed her hesitance at thinking such a statement to be true. She paused when I held up my hand.

"It is quite alright, Esme. I am used to it and come to expect it." I looked up at her and smiled, receiving a small one in return. We both heard footsteps cascading down stairs alerting us to the fact Alice and Emmett were ready.

_Edward, come on, it's time to go,_ said Emmett's eager and enthusiastic mind. I wasn't sure why he was so eager to be going back to high school. He had already earned many accolades from Ivy League schools. Teenage males amused him, though and Emmett was quite the anthropologist when he wished to be.

I sighed as I swiftly stood up, making the old chair creaked. "I shall see you later Esme. After this redundant day is out of the way and before the next one starts." I leaned forward and patted Esme on the shoulder, she laughed at my tone.

"Oh Edward, dear. It isn't that bad. You have Alice and Emmett with you, and the time will pass swifter than you expect," she smilingly replied, gently patting my cheek in a gesture she knew irritated me.

I gritted my teeth, retracted my arm and left to join Alice and Emmett. Esme turned back to her painting. It was of the sketch she had made of Carlisle earlier.

Before leaving the house, I spoke a goodbye to Rosalie and Jasper. Jasper replied out loud with a jolt of euphoria to send me on my way whilst Rosalie answered with thoughts of relief of my departure. Despite the sting of her thoughts, Jasper ensured I left the house grinning inanely. Alice and Emmett were already seated within my Volvo with Alice in the front and Emmett in the back.

Emmett claimed he needed more space so he preferred the back. However, he and I both knew it was because he liked letting Alice get her own way. Emmett still had memories of his sisters, who he loved dearly, and Alice was now his sister and he treated her as such. Naturally he would tease and taunt her, but he would always acquiesce to her demands in the end.

I entered the car and slid into the front seat. Pulling away from our house I felt Jasper's euphoria wear off and my features settled into their normal place. I heard Alice's wry comment -- _Edward's back_ -- as it happened. I scowled in her direction.

The drive was quiet, Alice fiddled with the radio and her thoughts skipped about. She skimmed through visions trying to anticipate as much as she could about the day. She finally settled on it being a normal uneventful first day. We would be stared at, whispered about and generally avoided. Despite their stupidity humans recognised a predator when they saw one, even if that realization was deeply embedded into their subconscious. It was rare for a human to try and befriend us, and if they did they were deterred quickly. Emmett sat in the back watching the scenery fly by, observing our new surroundings and thinking about Rosalie. He hoped she would have a good day, if she didn't, they had organised that she would call him and he would leave to go be with her. Alice's visions told me Rosalie and Jasper would help Esme redecorate the dining room and Rosalie would never call Emmett.

A matter of minutes later I pulled into Fork's High school and parked between two dusty, beaten up trucks. One red, the other blue. Alice was the first to exit the car, followed by Emmett and I. We walked at a slow pace to the school's main entrance, garnering looks and comments in hushed tones along the way. _What are they thinking, Edward?_ Emmett asked me.

"The same as what you can hear, only cruder," I replied in a volume only Alice and Emmett could hear. We walked into the school and made our way to our homeroom. Carlisle had already called ahead to ensure we didn't have to go through any meticulously dull procedure at the school office. Our eidetic memory meant the map of the school was firmly imprinted in our minds. Once in the classroom we sat in a row to the right of the classroom near the far corner and started the day as we meant to spend the rest of the year.

Over the course of the morning, throughout classes, in the corridors and before the lessons started we avoided eye contact, skin contact and communication with those around us. The thoughts at the beginning of the day revolved around our beauty and our grace. A desire to know us better was expressed in the most depraved of ways in the minds of our classmates. A particularly graphic image of what one boy wished to do to Alice caused several alarming visions to flit through Alice's mind and Emmett to put a restraining hand on my shoulder. A massacre on our first day of school was exposure we did not need. By the time lunch rolled around the student body had began to turn against us, thinking we were rude and arrogant. Alice, Emmett and I settled into the role nicely.

Lunch was always a double edged sword for us for it required us to be under closer scrutiny and to keep a careful check on our actions and demeanour. Yet it was also the most secluded place in the school. We were in plain sight of the entire school population, yet sat around a table tucked into the corner of the cafeteria, which afforded us privacy we did not have in the classroom or corridors.

We walked into the large cafeteria and waited in line like the rest of the herd. We bought drinks and food we would not consume and found a small table to the left as far back as possible. Alice led the way, followed by Emmett and then me.

I was mid stride when a scent so deliciously pungent floated along the air toward me. I stopped and closed my eyes, inhaling the scent particles deeply. I savoured the succulent flavour upon the air. Opening my eyes, I turned to the direction where it originated from. I could hear the urgent sounds of Alice and Emmett's mind. I could hear the humans around me laugh and ponder my behaviour. But it washed around me and I ignored it for I was in the centre of the storm and fixed in place.

Across the room, sitting at a table with two other humans sat a boy. He had brown hair parted on the left side slightly hanging over one eye but neatly cut. He wore a rusty red coloured t-shirt with a brown zip up jumper and he was staring directly at me. Frozen in place just as I was. His deep brown eyes stared steadily at me, widened slightly but not in fear for his eyebrows were not pulled up. He was nervously biting on his lower lip and a delicate pink flush drifted up his cheeks from his neck like smoke. I began to take a step toward him, his heart beat called out to me and the scent of his blood was overwhelming me. The burn in my throat was raging and I knew the only thing that would soothe it pumped in the veins of the human in front of me. All I needed to do was go to it. All I needed to do was _taste_ it.

A hand on my back along with a forceful shout stopped me. The hand was Alice and the shout came from her mind._ EDWARD, NO! _

I immediately expelled a long breath and closed off my lungs, trying to rid myself of the scent my body craved so badly. Alice's hand moved to the crook of my arm and she firmly turned me around to face her. Her expression was serene and she had a calm smile upon her face, but her mind was in disarray and she was panicking. Out loud she told me that I needed to go the office for there was a slip Mrs Cope needed me to sign and that she would save my food for me. Her mind threw horrific images at me as she showed me what I had nearly done. Screams and terrified cries filled the air as I devoured the boy behind me. The consequences of my actions would alert the Volturi and the treaty with the Quileutes would have been violated. My hunger for the boy's blood would destroy everything our family had built if I did not walk away now. I nodded at her, handed her my tray and walked out of the cafeteria. It was impossible to tell that white hot flames were licking the insides of my throat and my mouth was nearly over flowing with venom.

Once the doors were closed behind me I ran and ran and ran, pushing myself farther while every step I took warred against my desire to turn back toward the source of my own version of hell.

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**A/N: I really hope you liked it. So scared right now.**

**Reviews would be lovely and I hope to see you over on the thread!  
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	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: OH MY GOD.**

**The response to this story has blown my already fragile mind. Dear God do I love each and every one of you! Seriously I'm amazed and astounded, thank you!**

**Christine, once again you stun me with your greatness. Thanks for the support and excitement over this, and for beta'ing so well and so incredibly fast.**

**Also this story was recommended on the Temptation podcast (by Christine the official pimp for this story), please go listen if you don't already, it's hilarious, informative and just plain odd sometimes. Link on my profile.  
**

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**

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The sound of rushing leaves swept past me. The squelching of rain soaked earth under my feet made a rhythmic beat, like a racing heart. I shot like an arrow through wilderness, bounding over rocks and darting past trees. Droplets of water rained down from steel clouds, falling upon me as how I would imagine pin pricks to feel. Rivulets of water coursed down my face, matted my hair and soaked my clothes so they clung to my body like a second skin. But they were no hindrance. My movements were lithe and graceful as I shot like a bullet through the forest, my mind was scattered and torn. All my instincts screamed at me to turn around, return to that cafeteria and feast upon the nectar it was in my nature to consume.

I had run far and was many miles from Forks, on a lonely path I had never traveled before. But the scent was not lost to me. It would be all too easy for me to retrace my steps and find the boy. I could recall with torturous clarity precisely how his blood had smelt; like honey. It was aromatic and intoxicating. Perfectly sweet and naturally fragrant. The only thing that stopped me from relenting to the madness hovering on the fringe of my id was Carlisle's voice harbored in the vestiges of my ego.

The memory of his face hovering above me, his hand stroking my hair and forehead soothingly, as he explained what I had become. What he had made me. He warned me of the thirst, of the desire I would feel. And he begged me to hold on to my humanity, for that was my salvation.

"Never embrace the darkness, Edward, for you may never be able to return." His words rang clearly in my mind. They were my maxim, my shibboleth and my creed. I had gone to the darkness once, and it was cold, lonely and desolate. I refused to return. I refused to let my weakness destroy me, destroy my family, my coven.

I ran to forget, to strip away my clouded thoughts. I had no destination in mind, or time by which to stop. It would happen naturally, I would know when to go home.

I ran through rain, I ran through mist. Weak sunlight shone and clouds covered me. A pale moon rose, the sky turned deep blue. Stars appeared and twinkled like diamonds as I kept on running.

And all the time I waited patiently for my fears to leave me, for me to come back to myself again.

The sun had passed over me three times and it was three hours past noon before the compulsion to keep moving forward left me. I stopped and looked about me, moving in a slow circle. Slow for my kind. Pulpy moss grew underfoot coating rocks and tree roots. Tall firs sprouted around me, brushing against my sodden shoulders. The rain had stopped but my cool skin had not allowed the material to dry and ice had formed in the creases. Shards splintered off me as I moved and fell to the lush green floor. Fungi nestled in clusters, their spongy ridges glistened with the remains of the previous day's rain. I could hear life around me. The scurrying of animals through the undergrowth and in the branches of trees. Birds called to one another and ruffled their feathers. The distant drone of cars as they sped down highways and back roads. I looked down at my feet; my shoes had worn through the soles and fallen away long ago. I had discarded the remaining shell and was now barefoot. Not that the difference in texture affected me. My clothes were torn and my skin glistened with splashes of wet soil. I stood in the small clearing where I had finally stopped running, breathed in deeply with closed eyes and an upturned face. Allowed the sensation of the rain to caress me as it ran down my face and neck. I savored the scents upon the air. It smelt clean and fresh with traces of temptation from the animals that inhabited this place. Yet they held not one quarter of the lure for me than the scent I was beginning to return to, as I made that first step in the direction of home.

On my journey back to Forks, as I drifted silently through the hushed forest like a wraith, I thought about the boy. More specifically his painfully desirable blood and the risk his presence involved. I pondered my options as the sun crept down from the sky, flares of orange going with it.

It would be easy for me to move away. I could live with the Denali coven for awhile and then rejoin my family in a year, moving on to college with Alice and Emmett. When examining the situation practically, that was the most sensible solution. My hunger was not something to be treated lightly especially when flared by the most delectable scent I had ever come across in my ninety years as a vampire, but the thought of _running away _from a human. Something so weak to have so much power over me made me turn my nose up in disgust. I was proud, I was immortal and I was powerful.

I was accustomed to viewing human beings as cattle, milling around me caught up in their inconsequential thoughts and conversations. I was above them in so many ways. I may not drink from them, having turned from that path long ago, but my instincts still told me they were livestock. Easily herded and easily killed.

I refused to let this particular human drive me away from my family and my home. I had conquered the temptation of human blood many years ago; I would conquer this one too. I would have to undertake certain precautions, naturally, and most likely a discussion with Carlisle was in order to approve the plan forming in my mind, but I refused to allow a mere human boy to have such a hold over me. A hold he was not even aware of.

I reached Forks one and a half days later. My mind was more focused on my surroundings and, instead of the long winding path through woods and deserted roads I had first taken, I found a straighter quicker route.

It was Sunday and a fine rain gently fell on the small town like a mist as I returned. I stepped out from the canopy of the trees that bordered the lawn of our house to see Alice waiting for me. She had known the exact moment of my arrival and had run to greet me just as I left the shadows of the forest. She was standing thirty two yards away from me in a black A-line dress with her hands clasped behind her back. She had a smile on her face and her eyes were twinkling merrily.

_I'm glad you're back, Edward. Carlisle will be home from the hospital in twenty six minutes and forty two seconds if you want to talk to him about your plan. _Her mind sung out to me. I ambled up to her, her mind telling me she wished to hug me but was repulsed by the state of my clothes. I chuckled and bent down to give her a swift kiss on the cheek instead. We both turned to walk into the house together.

"Have you had any visions indicating the success of my plan?" I asked her, dipping my head to see her face. I knew she would have received some visions of some kind once I began deciding on how to act even if I wasn't able to see the evidence of it in her mind. She grinned. _That's a long way to say 'do you see me killing Bela anytime soon?' _A series of images flashed through her mind, in some I talked to the boy, stood near the boy, sat next to the boy. And in a few I killed the boy. I was relieved to see there were more visions showing the boy alive than dead. I sighed before recalling Alice's jibe and the unfamiliar name. I opened my mouth to ask her but she saw the question and answered me. "That's his name -- Bela. The boy's name is Bela," she said, pronouncing it Bair-la, indicating its roots in eastern Europe. To my knowledge it was a Hungarian name that was common over half a century ago. It was also the name of one of the first Edomite Kings in the book of Genesis.

"That's an unusual name, is his family Hungarian?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow at Alice. _I'm not sure, maybe you could ask him? _she replied with a mischievous look on her face that I grimaced at. We were standing just inside the living room now and I saw Jasper drift over to us from the white sofa he had been sitting on.

_Glad you're back, Edward,_ he thought as he clasped my hand tightly in his and patted me on the shoulder. Alice was still hovering at my side but entwined her and Jasper's fingers together. _She missed you, _Jasper thought, darting a look at Alice then back at me, a knowing smile on his face. I nodded at him with a quiet smile of my own. Jasper led Alice back over to where he was sitting and I walked around to the kitchen where Esme and Rosalie were sitting. I had heard them flicking through a bridal magazine while I was walking up to the house with Alice. Rosalie and Emmett would be getting married next year again and Rose had already begun searching for a dress. They both knew I had returned, Esme wished to come and meet me with Alice but didn't want to offend Rosalie. She chose to welcome me in her mind instead. Rose was waiting for me to come to her.

I had gathered from the bitter timbre of her thoughts that Rosalie had resented my sudden disappearance, that my lack of attendance after just one morning of school had forced Carlisle to invent the excuse I had suddenly come down with an illness. Rosalie's high expectations of us all playing our roles perfectly, never swerving from our act as the perfect human family was becoming wearisome. It was highly unlikely that my three day absence from school would cause anyone to suspect it was because I had suddenly the overwhelming urge to drain the body of one of the students and it was imperative I leave and gain control over myself once more before I could return and avoid a massacre at the school. The fact was this: Rose was insecure, paranoid and scared. And she hated that I knew this, and that I pitied her for it. Which is why she sat at the kitchen counter, ruthlessly critiquing each wedding dress in her magazine whilst Esme tried to keep up, determined to ignore my presence by the doorway.

"Hello, Esme, Rosalie," I spoke quietly into the room. Esme had been darting looks up at me from the pages of the magazine and hearing my voice, she stood up and gracefully swept over to me. She put her arms about me, resting her head on my shoulder with a contented mind. I stiffly lifted a hand up to pat her on the back.

_I'm so glad you're back, Edward. I hope you feel better now, _she thought with warmth. I softened slightly and placed my hand flat on her back, squeezing her infinitesimally before releasing her and stepping backwards. I looked over to Rosalie, who I certainly had no expectations of an embrace from. She was sitting up straight on the bar stool, her arms crossed and regarding me coolly. Her mind was the usual maelstrom of irritated and barbed comments. But worry peeked through. Her fears drifted to the surface for just a second. She was concerned I would lose control and expose us all. She longed for security and safety, both of which I threatened to take away from her. I struggled with my feelings because I couldn't blame Rosalie for feeling that way. Not really. Yet her lack of faith in me stung and caused me to turn away from the kitchen without saying a word to her. Esme's mind saw me go with regret and looked back at Rosalie with blame. Rosalie would not back down in her opinion of me, and I would not back down in my opinion of her. The sooner Esme accepted that fact the better.

I sat on Carlisle's chaise lounge in his study awaiting his return. Emmett wasn't home and from my family's thoughts it was apparent he was grocery shopping. Fulfilling another part of our mock humanity. It was usually Emmett and Esme that went. Emmett liked to see humans pursue two of their favorite past times: shopping and food. Whatever he could not hope to understand he found fascinating. However, because Esme wished to await my arrival, Emmett went by himself. It was tradition and habit to do the grocery shopping on a Sunday afternoon and he did not wish to stray from it. We all have our quirks and our routines. They ground us.

I passed the time listening to my family and picking debris off my clothes. I was covered in pine needles, dead leaves and soil. My feet were dirty and my skin splattered with mud. I still needed to hunt since I had gone nearly a week without, so I saw no reason to shower and change. Alice and Jasper were still in the living room, their thoughts and conversation intimate and private. I tried to turn my mind from them. I sought distraction by listening to Rosalie and Esme, however, they were still perusing wedding dresses and that held no interest for me. I looked about Carlisle's study, at the dark wooden bookcases and the rows of pictures that made up our history. I picked up a book resting on the end table by where I sat and I flicked through it, discovering I had read it four times already. I slung it back on the table with a sigh and felt complete and utter boredom wash over me as I leaned back into the old green leather bringing my hands up to rub over my eyes. I could feel the indentations of the buttoned leather against my back and the grains of dirt under my fingertips as I threaded my hands up into my hair, cupping my scalp. Monotony was becoming the state in which I lived my life. I yearned for diversion and entertainment. Once again I cursed my 'gift' for robbing me of the ability to integrate into those around me and enjoy their company without wincing internally at every unattractive thought that ran through their heads. I heard Jasper and Alice move outside, my brooding was disturbing Jasper and he didn't want to infringe upon my natural state. His mind told me it was best I talk to Carlisle without manipulated emotions. Alice reminded me that Carlisle would be home in nine minutes and thirty six seconds.

And so he was.

He stopped in the kitchen briefly to greet Rosalie and kiss Esme on the cheek before swiftly making his way to his study where I awaited him. His mind was full of his day at the hospital and for what I would wish to speak with him about. Alice had alerted him to my intention once she became aware of it. He entered the room and I stood up. He strode over to me and hugged me tightly. _Oh Edward. I'm so sorry you had to be away from us. Don't worry, we'll find a way round this._ I returned his embrace with equal fervor. There may be tension within my family at times, but the feeling of returning home to your father when you were lost and unsure was pleasurable and comforting. I knew I would always have Carlisle. We broke apart from each other and moved to the seats by the window, two matching leather armchairs with a chessboard standing in between.

"Are you feeling more collected now, Edward?" Carlisle asked with a genial smile as we both sat down.

"Yes, I know what I need to do," I answered, nodding. I looked down at my hands as Carlisle wondered what I meant. He also took in my appearance, my state of dishevelment a stark contrast to my usual ordered and neat presentation.

"I refuse to allow a human disrupt my life and my family," I said firmly, lifting my head to meet Carlisle's eyes confidently. He raised an eyebrow at my tone. I knew he disliked my attitude toward humans, yet I always saw his empathy for them a weakness.

"So what is it you plan to do?" he questioned.

"Desensitize myself to the boy so his scent loses power over me," I stated plainly.

"And how do you plan to accomplish that?" he asked me, his face twisted in inquiry.

"By spending as much time as I can around the boy," I answered.

Carlisle looked down, lifting his interlocked hands to his face and resting his lips on them. He thought through what I had said and what it implied. He assumed I meant I would try to be around the boy as much as I could at school, not blatantly, not so anyone would notice. He was nearly right.

"Just being around him at school won't be enough. The scent would still hit me with the same strength as the first time and the desensitization would take too long," I pointed out. Carlisle looked at me with a puzzled expression. _So how else will you overcome your thirst? _he asked.

"I also plan to spend time in the boy's room while he sleeps." I settled further into the chair and looked steadily at Carlisle. _Edward... that is a great risk. What if you are caught? What if the scent is too much for you?_

"I understand the risks perfectly, Carlisle, don't worry. I've spent twenty eight hours thinking this through. I will start off staying in the boy's room for thirty minutes or so, gradually increasing the time as my control grows." Carlisle nodded in acquiescence. "As to being caught, I'm the fastest in the family. I would hear anyone coming, so it is highly unlikely I would be caught unless I wished it," I added with humor in my tone. Carlisle sighed and leaned back in his chair. His mind showed he had relented, but I waited for him to vocalise it out of respect.

"Alright, Edward, but I want Alice to come with you in the beginning just in case anything should happen," he said gravely, I knew he did not just mean the dangers of discovery requiring Alice's presence. It was also if she saw I needed to be restrained, someone would be there to do so.

_When was the last time you hunted?_ Carlisle asked me.

"It was last Monday. Don't worry, I had planned on going once Emmett returned," I reassured him as I stood up. Carlisle rose too and we walked out of the study together, Carlisle's hand resting on my shoulder.

Emmett returned from his excursion twenty three minutes later. He was grinning broadly and once he was through the door, he promptly handed the bags to Jasper, grasped my hand, and clapped my shoulder enthusiastically so the sound reverberated round the room. _Glad you're back, brother! Gotten over your tizzy? _he taunted. I smirked and pulled my hand out from his. "Yes, thank you. I was going to go hunting. Do you want to come?" I asked, deciding to ignore his jibe. He nodded eagerly, his wide grin with bared teeth stretched across his face. "Lemme just say goodbye to Rose," he added before darting off to Rosalie, who was now in their room. _You haven't said hello yet. _I heard her grumble.

We left five minutes later, Emmett brimming with eagerness and desperately trying to keep his mind from Rosalie's bad mood. She was irked he had returned home only to leave again with me and not spend any time with her. He decided to try and make it up to her when he returned. I focused on my surroundings rather than on his thoughts when they turned that direction.

We sped through the forest, bounding over ferns, rocks and low branches. Our spirits were gleeful and light as we shed our mask of humanity and allowed ourselves to just _be_, here in the quiet dark labyrinth of trees. Emmett caught the scent of a large buck and veered off to pursue it. He had hunted two days ago and wasn't looking for a particular animal to slake his thirst. Any would do. I, however, was ravenous now that my energy was purely focused on the pursuit of sustenance. Any animal tempting and large enough that strayed into my path of senses was immediately preyed upon by me. I stalked and slaughtered three does and one sluggish mountain lion nearing the end of his days, glutting myself on their thick warm blood with abandon and no shame. I relished the feel of that pulsing liquid pouring down my throat and soothing the burn. It was not what I wished I could drink, if I had a choice. But it was soothing enough... for now. As always I knew the burn would return in time and I would once again tether and restrain the monster waiting to erupt inside of me.

I was standing over a stream, splashing water over my face to loosen the stain of dried blood that had run from the corners of my mouth and down onto my chest. My shirt was a tattered mess and I tore it from my body, discarding it on the forest floor for birds to use in their nests when Spring returned.

Emmett had finished hunting long before me, amusing himself by pitching stones as high as he could into the air. He made sure they were small enough to be barely caught by the human eye. He began to walk back toward me once he heard the sloshing sound of water being doused upon my face. His thoughts reached me long before his body did. _Are you satisfied now, Edward? Ready to go home? _he asked. I looked up at him and nodded. He had a contented smile on his face and we returned to the house in companionable silence. He thought of his return to Rose, secure that she would forgive him. I thought about my own plans that night.

Once back in the house Emmett immediately disappeared upstairs to go to Rosalie, he wanted the company of his mate as he cleansed himself of his hunt. I was greeted by Alice's wrinkled up nose at my increased dirtiness and Jasper's silent laugh at her feelings of horror and repulsion. Her mind told me she was sad I had ruined my shirt as it had suited me. Esme and Carlisle were together in Esme's studio and I began to feel ashamed and mortified at their thoughts. I had no wish to hear them. Tender exchanges and acts of love between two people I respected so much always made me turn my head down in shame on the intrusion into their private world. I felt my 'gift' took away the sanctity of their love and I despised that.

The day was beginning to draw to a close. The ink blue night drifted into the sky and banished the sickly sun that tried so hard to shine. I washed my body of the dirt and grime running through rain soaked forestry had given it. And I savoured the feel of pounding steamy water as it ran in rivers down my back and thighs. I leant my hands flat against the tiled wall of my shower, looking down at the blood and mud that was washed away down the drain. I concentrated on the sound of the water hitting the back of my body and spraying against the walls rather than the sounds of my mated family as night descended.

One hundred and sixty eight minutes later I stood by the front door waiting for Alice. I could hear her lingering goodbyes to Jasper as he lay on their bed. She told him she would be back within the hour. Her mind told me I would not be able to be in the room for long, that I would last fifteen minutes and eight seconds at best. Any more and the boy, Bela, would die. I resolved to take no risks and stay no longer than twelve minutes. Alice eventually danced her way down the stairs, her countenance shining with her post coital glow, and she smiled brilliantly at me. One thing I had come to learn was that Alice's mood was always devastatingly blissful after making love to Jasper, as his gift was an important aspect to their love making. And whilst I disliked having such in depth knowledge of their habits, it at least explained her sudden peaceful and content mood. It was incredibly hard to provoke her when she was like this, as Emmett had proved many a time. _Alright Edward, let's go, _she thought as she let out a happy sigh, looking up at me glazed eyes. I breathed lightly through my nose and shook my head before following her out the door and running to Bela's house under the cover of the dark night.

We approached the house I had learnt belonged to Forks' Chief of Police Charlie Swan. Where he lived quietly with just his son, seventeen year old Bela Swan. Alice stayed under the cover of the trees that stood not far from Chief Swan's property where she would wait for me to begin my attempt to desensitize myself to the call of the boy's blood. I had agreed with Alice that I would sit half in, half out of the window, so I was not fully immersed into the room and completely cloaked in his scent. I would not move and I would sit there for ten minutes before leaving again. Alice assured me if I stuck to this plan nothing bad would happen and the boy would live to see another day. I desperately hoped she was right, and that I was strong enough.

I scaled the wall and reached the boy's window in a matter of seconds, deftly sliding the window up noiselessly I pulled my body up to sit on his sill. I held my breath and closed off any passageway to my lungs before swinging one of my legs round to place my foot on his floor. I moved my body so it was parallel to the edge of the window frame and still not breathing, I turned my head to look in. It was a small, shadowy room. I could see the sleeping form of the human boy not far off. Alice's mind was a comfort to me as she reassured me there was no danger. I could hear Chief Swan snoring in a room down the hall, his dreams a sequence of random images that were misty and undefined. I drew my attention back to the slumbering boy and just as I quietly drew some of his scent into my lungs and a path of fire ripped its way down my throat in searing desire, I realised that I had heard nothing from the boy's mind.

It was solely this fact which ensured his safety.

My hands were tightly balled up into fists as I battled with every nerve in my body demanding I walk over to the sleeping boy and feast upon his honey scented blood. I screwed my eyes closed, dropped my head into my fists and stopped breathing. Harshly expelling the breath I had taken which had filled my body with such torturous desire, I then closed my lungs once more.

I looked over to the silent boy and cocked my head as I tried to work out why I could detect nothing from him. He may have been asleep but I should be able to hear _something_, see _something._ Alice was urging me with my mind to hurry, that I had come too close and she was afraid. Her visions were coming fast and the future was not set in stone. I ignored her and swept my eyes through the room once more. I could see shelves lined with books, an over flowing hamper, magazines and CDs littered a desk where an out of date desktop sat upon it. Blue curtains fluttered out of the corner of my eye as a breeze drifted in through the open window, making the boy shiver and tighten his covers about him, his body becoming more distinguishable. His face buried down into his pillow so only a swathe of dark hair could be seen.

I was feeling discontent. I had underestimated just how strong my desire for his blood was and his mind was a puzzle I was burning to solve. No one had ever been so off limits to me before, so out of reach. I may curse and despise my 'gift' at times, but it was a constant presence in my life, and to not rely on it was disconcerting. I felt almost blind.

An idea came to me, I made the decision quickly. Alice's cries to be careful in a panicked voice sounded in my mind and I was careful not to breathe. I slid back on the window sill so I was near the boy's wardrobe, where one door stood ajar and I could see into the dim depths within. I soundlessly swung my other leg over the window sill and stood swiftly. I turned to the open wardrobe door and put my hand in. At the back I could make out a pile of clumsily folded clothes on the floor of the wardrobe. I bent forward and picked up the first one my hand touched. I pulled it out and straightened, turning my back to the wardrobe.

I opened up the t-shirt and in the moonlight I could make out it was black with a cartoon duck on the front with the letters 'Count Duckula' in green and red above it. I gazed at the t-shirt open mouthed while Alice giggled quietly under the trees. The cartoon duck stood with arms stretched up in the air, small white fangs peeking from his bill and a long black cape flowing from his shoulders. Behind him on his left stood a large fat white bird with its arm in a sling, a frilly cap on its head. On his right stood a hunched elderly looking bird with one hand held out. The size of the shirt indicated it was for a child and the faded colour of the background along with the peeling and cracked motif indicated it had been well worn, and well washed. I shook my head slowly as I searched my memory for a cartoon called Count Duckula. None came to mind but I pocketed the t-shirt anyway and stepped toward the open window.

I had decided to take something belonging to the boy so I had another constant source of his scent to aid me in my efforts to shake the call of it from me. But now I wondered whether I not only had something to help me with my plan, but also help me understand the strange human boy I was now so powerfully tied to. The coincidence that I had happened to pick up a t-shirt bearing such a logo was not lost on me and I could still hear Alice's quiet giggles as I looked upon the silent, puzzling boy before climbing out the window, closing it and falling to the soft springy turf below.

Alice and I ran in the silver glow of the moon back to our family, Alice dwelling on thoughts of her mate. And I with thoughts of the garment burning in a hole in my pocket and the boy to whom it belonged.

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**A/N: I'm going to go hide now. I know some of you told me not to be scared but I'm still pretty freaking terrified.**

**I really hope you liked this chapter, more on Bela's name next chapter and also actual conversation between the two of them.**

**Shocking I know.**

**Please review and come visit the thread, you get to witness Christine's 'gentle encouragement' firsthand. And join in. Also I'll be posting the picture of the Count Duckula t shirt over there.  
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**Thank you for reading!  
**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry it took ages, I've changed jobs and moved so I've been a bit busy. Hopefully things will calm down and my updating will become more regular.**

**Thank you thank you thank you to my beta cdunbar, this was beta'd amazingly quickly.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
**

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The desire to bite-- an irrepressible urge that is a basic reflex action vampires cannot control. We catch the scent of our prey; we _need _to bite. It is an impulse we can feel in our gums, in the coating of venom that seeps up our throats and lines our razored teeth. To deny that feeling is a physical aggravation that sours our mood and easily provokes us into anger. Our gums itch, our teeth tingle and our throat burns. That fire is merely an echo of that which we suffered when we were turned, but the reminder is enough to drive us to pacify the demon. Our primal instincts dictate that we pursue the source of our thirst, our teeth sinking into our preys' skin like butter. And we pull their blood from their veins and drink until they are bone dry. It is part of our nature. We can no more deny it than we can order our eyes to stop seeing, our noses to stop smelling, our ears to stop hearing.

The fact that we chose to hunt animals made no difference. If anything it made our desire for human blood that much more pungent and tempting. Forbidden.

It was for that reason I sat in my black leather armchair digging my fingers right through the weak animal hide and into the wooden frame as I breathed in the scent of Bela from his t-shirt, which was draped over my face like a mask.

Dawn was approaching. Rosalie and Jasper would be leaving soon and they were saying their goodbyes to their mates. We were all followers of desire that night.

Jasper was radiating love and lust throughout the house. It was pushing out the windows and against the walls with the force of Alice's and his want of each other. It flowed through the rooms of the house like a fine mist that would catch lovers in its hazy web. Emmett and Rosalie's minds were fogged and clouded, under the spell of Jasper's gift and so entwined in their feelings for the other. Tendrils and vines of that intoxicating feeling that was lust crept up my legs and spiralled up my limbs and torso. I was caught and trapped, my body reacting to the combination of sexual desire and Bela's seductive scent. The two forces promised to be a cataclysmic crash if they were allowed to meet and before I was completely overwhelmed, I tore the t-shirt from my face, closed off my lungs and vaulted the garment across my room. I stood up in an instant and clawed my hands through my hair, pushing my head back to stare at the ceiling. The sounds of my brothers and sisters exhilaration in their activities was growing. Their lust reflected and rebounded off each couple, feeding the other and promising to mount into a simultaneous crescendo of euphoria that would burst like a ball of light and blind those in its path. And at the moment _I_ was in that path.

I could feel lust make my body quake and shiver and I became too aware of the cloth of my slacks against my sensitive member. I would not often allow myself to be placed in this position, but my celibate way of life made salacious thoughts harder to ignore and when my family were engaged in such a manner, distractions were imperative.

I was foolhardy. I had sought the occupation of developing my resistance to Bela's scent as a suitable distraction but I was wrong. My blood lust had fuelled the sexual lust and I was now feeling frustratingly aroused.

Under the shelter of the spray of water from my shower and the scattered state of my siblings' minds, too caught up in pleasure, I relieved myself of my sexual desire and willed my blood desire to fade away. The burn in my throat retreated. I was keeping the monster at bay.

I leaned against the shower wall, the water running down my back as I felt those consuming urges ebb away.

My siblings were satisfied too now. Jasper ghosted his fingers along the skin of Alice's arm, up to her neck, across her collarbones and down the centre of her torso. He was appreciating the satin texture of her skin, the delicate mouldings of her bones and muscles.

_So soft, like feathers.... she's made of silk......the way she moves........the feel of her against me._

Alice laid back on the bed languidly, smiling up into Jasper's face and revelled in the feelings of worship he bathed her in. Her mind was a kaleidoscope of visions, forever altering and shifting portents of the day, the hours and the minutes, yet she too was marvelling at her mate.

_His kind eyes..... seen so much pain....... strong cheekbones and his aquiline nose...... hair made of sunlight...... _she trembled under his touch as his fingers skirted her ribs ......._the way his fingers dance across my skin._

I turned away from them.

Rose and Emmett were curled up on their couch. Emmett held Rose in his arms, close to his chest. Her head was tucked under his jaw and their eyes were closed. Rose imagined two hearts beating, breast to breast, sharing the same rhythm.

_And then another grows in me. Nine months makes it strong._

Emmett cradled Rosalie's head to him, her hair sliding through his fingers. He loved to touch her hair, to run his fingers through it and let it run like water through them. He always brushed the tangles from her hair after they made love. With the other hand he wrote his love for her on her back. She smiled against his skin as she translated what he wrote.

_S-T-R-O-N-G_

_L-O-Y-A-L_

_L-O-V-I-N-G_

_S-A-V-E-D_

_M-E_

_N-E-V-E-R_

_L-E-A-V-E_

_M-E_

She thought she could be writing the same on him. She answered with the tip of her finger.

_C-O-U-L-D-N-'-T_

She lifted her head to look up at him and they smiled at each other, wrapped up in their own world and in their love's arms. Emmett bent down to kiss Rosalie's nose. She grinned and scrunched it up, making him chuckle and lean down further to kiss her on the lips. Gently, softly.

It was the water of the shower that caressed me, that traced the surface of my skin. It learned my physiognomy, knew what my skin felt like. Water that had no temperature I could feel. Water that hissed as it hit me, washing off of me and running down the drain. I hugged one arm around my body, clutching my elbow. I closed my eyes and imagined soft skin against me. Long hair to run my fingers through. Fingers to write their words of love on me. Lips to kiss and smile at me. Eyes to lose myself in.

I got pulled from my revelry by the sounds of Jasper and Rosalie moving around. They dressed swiftly, Emmett and Alice following their movements with their eyes. Alice looked at Jasper's day. She saw he would feel tempted to drink the blood of three of his fellow students, one professor, a woman who works in administration and a caretaker with a heart problem. But he wouldn't. She warned him anyway. He walked up to her and kissed the top of her head.

"Thanks, darlin'." She smiled up at him as he cupped her cheek with his hand and rubbed his thumb to and fro along her cheekbone just beneath her eye.

Rosalie sat on the bed next to Emmett and slipped on her shoes. She then handed him a brush and he sat up, turning to her and pulling her in between his legs. He gathered all her hair into his hand and brushed out the tangles and knots with utmost concentration and care. He let go of Rosalie's hair, allowing it to fall down her back and fan out across her shoulders. She turned around and kissed his mouth in thanks. Emmett handed the brush back to her before they both rose and walked out of their room hand in hand.

Emmett and Alice stood by the door and watched their mates leave as morning broke. I stood looking out of my glass wall and watched pink tinges creep up into the sky as the sun was pulled up out of the horizon.

I dressed swiftly into my clothes for the day and then walked over to my stereo, putting Billie Holliday on low. I pulled a book I'd read before off of my shelf, sat in my damaged chair to read, and waited.

Alice knocked lightly on my door three minutes later. She did not wait for my permission to enter as she saw it before I could voice it, and stepped into my room. Her mind was buzzing with her visions of the day and she was eager to talk about them. Emmett was downstairs playing on the Xbox. Esme and Carlisle were still out hunting and Alice had said they would return between ten and thirteen minutes after we left for school. She could not be more specific.

"Well Alice?" I asked her as she hovered by my closed bedroom door smiling merrily at me.

_You won't kill him, you'll like him, _she said with cheer. I gave her an amused smirk, nodded and returned to my book.

_Edward!_ she chided. I chuckled and looked up at her to see her frowning unhappily at my lack of enthusiasm. I gestured with my hand for her to sit on the couch perpendicular to my armchair. She glided over, a smile lighting her face once more. Although I saw she noted with disdain Bela's scrunched up childhood t-shirt on the floor from where I had thrown it. She arched an eyebrow at me and pursed her lips.

"So I'll like him?" I asked her, leaning back as I closed the book.

"Yes, you'll have English with him and you talk," she answered, sliding her hands under her knees and looking eagerly at me. I furrowed my brow because she was hiding something from me. Alice could never contain her excitement about anything. I heard it in her voice and in her manner and it wasn't just down to the remains of her uplifted mood from being with Jasper. She was genuinely pleased about something but she was blocking it. The more I concentrated on her mind, the more she brought other thoughts to the surface. She flicked through inconsequential visions like a book, recalled phrases, quotes and snatches of songs. My family had grown adept at hiding thoughts from me if they concentrated hard enough and Alice was the most skilled at it. I had once asked Jasper how they did it, since thinking of other things did not seem the answer to me. Surely if you were so focused on not thinking of something, somewhere in your mind you would be thinking of it, to make sure that you remembered to hide it. And then I would be able to find it. Jasper told me it was a question of protecting the thought, of making it private and precious. The more personal it became, the harder it was for me to see.

I sighed in defeat and folded my hands in my lap. "Very well, Alice. Hide things from me. You'll slip up one day." I ended my grumble with a smirk. Alice giggled and threw her head back.

_No chance._

"I do have one question, dearest sibyl," I added, tilting my head and lifting an eyebrow at her. Her eyes went vacant as she saw my question. They readjusted quickly and she smiled placidly.

"Bela was late into school. When I searched through our day in the morning he would not have been attending that day. A last minute decision meant he arrived later that morning and as I was not checking visions anymore, I did not see you nearly attack him," she explained, pulling her arms out to scoot further back onto the couch and then crossing her legs like a little girl.

"But what of spontaneous visions?" I questioned.

"I can't get them with him. You can't hear his mind and I can't spontaneously get a vision about him. I have to look," she revealed. I laughed silently at the low tone of her voice she had used, which showed her distaste. Thoughts of feeling handicapped flickered through her mind.

"At least you can see something," I told her, feeling slightly indignant at her thoughts.

"I know, but I still don't like it," she muttered darkly.

"Why was he late?" I asked, turning my body slightly more toward Alice.

"He hit his head and his father was worried he had a concussion. He was going to go to the hospital but Bela managed to convince him otherwise. He felt better later in the day and called his father to tell him he was going in."

"How do you know this?" Alice's visions were not that detailed.

"I heard Bela tell his friend Angela." Alice's memory unfurled in her mind and I saw Bela leaning against a truck, his elbow resting on the hood propping his head up as he talked to a slim brunette around the same height as him. Bela's voice was soft as he told Angela why he was late. Angela reached a hand up to delicately touch Bela's forehead and she winced, making a sympathetic noise when she saw the bruise. The memory ended with a blush blooming on Bela's cheeks and me frantically swallowing venom as I remembered his scent.

_Don't worry, you'll be okay Edward, _Alice said reassuringly, a sympathetic smile adorning her face.

I could Emmett's grumbling downstairs. He was bored playing by himself. _Edward! Come downstairs with Alice! _

I sighed heavily, but Alice was already skipping to the door. It was more her bringing me than I bringing her. Emmett sat playing Grand Theft Auto IV on the floor of the living room. He impatiently motioned for us to come over. Alice sped to his side and quickly became enthralled in the game. Emmett liked to have her as an audience because she also told him if his decisions would pay off or not. I sat on one of the sofa for awhile before drifting over to the piano and playing around with the keys.

Melodies fell from my fingers, disjointed and incomplete. Broken shards of tunes that I tried to assemble but they didn't fit. Their edges wouldn't align and the cracks too visible. I slammed the lid down in frustration, emitting a low growl in irritation that I wasn't able to put the full force of my strength into slamming the lid for fear of damaging the piano.

More time had passed than I had been aware of. Few things made me lose myself temporarily, dull the echo of people's thoughts and dim the ticking of the seconds. Tinkering away at the piano, futilely trying to craft a melody that would not come was one occupation. I preferred it when the composing came easy.

I turned on the piano stool and saw Alice animatedly firing a weapon on Emmett's game. Her mind a jumble of visions and bloodlust, purely computerized though. Alice rarely played, too many decisions involved, though she enjoyed it.

Alice let out a triumphant laugh as she successfully completed a mission, tossed the game controller at Emmett and jumped up twirling. She pirouetted her way over to me, her mind belting out Tchaikovsky. _Edward, dance with me! _

I sighed and shook my head. She set her mouth in a determined line and stopped mid turn to storm up to me, grab my hand, pull me to my feet and force me to spin her.

I reluctantly complied and half heartedly twirled her, but her giggles of delight and her sparkling grin tugged at my long silent heart. I began to spin her faster and with more enthusiasm.

We wasted the minutes left before we needed to leave by me spiralling Alice around the living room in the weak grey morning light, and Emmett shaking his head and chuckling at her frolics.

But time stood still for no man, or vampire, and it came time for us to go. Alice pirouetted one final time, finished with a graceful curtsy and jumped up to kiss me on the cheek in thanks. The image of Bela's t-shirt scrunched up on my floor flashed in her mind. She was smiling at me but her eyes were stern. I sighed and nodded at her.

"Go wait for me in the car. I'll be out in half a minute," I said heavily to Emmett and Alice. She grinned in victory and pulled Emmett out the front door, barely giving him time to grab our school bags.

I ran upstairs to my room, picking the t-shirt up and folding it neatly. I wanted to preserve as much of the scent as possible but I had nothing to store it in. I looked about my room until I saw something I _could_ use.

I frowned, but assured myself that I could always find something else later. The use would only be temporary. I still didn't like it though. I swiftly weighed my options, decided that I was being ridiculous and walked over to the shelf that housed my vinyls with protective plastic sleeves. Pulling one out at random I saw it was Debussy, slid the sleeve off and replaced the record back on the shelf, now vulnerable and open to damage. I placed Bela's shirt in the plastic jacket and shut it away in a drawer of my desk.

A moment later I stepped into the driver's seat of my car and turned on the ignition, pointedly ignoring Emmett's jibes that I was two seconds late. We drove to school in silence once more. Alice was looking through her day and comparing it to Jasper's.

Emmett read one of his entomology books in the back seat. His mind was completely absorbed in his reading on the habits of the Owlet moth, or Noctuidae as he learned was the other name of the family. Emmett's love of natural history mainly centred on insects because he found their hardiness fascinating, considering their fragility. Carlisle had encouraged Emmett to go to college, to take degrees in the various areas and gain knowledge that way. But I knew that Emmett distrusted college. He didn't like the power they had to mould a person and preferred to teach himself. His answer to Carlisle, a great believer in the value of college was merely, "They'd only slow me down, Carlisle. Gimme a month learnin' my way an' I could _teach_ the damn class myself." Which was true since he'd started studying Lepidopterology only nine days ago and had covered the larvae stages of all families of moths. He was now reading about pollinators.

I drew up to the school, parking in the same spot as last week, between a red and a blue truck. The red one looked like a contemporary of Harry S. Truman's time in office. It looked familiar and I tried to place it, but Alice had thrown my door open and was tugging on my elbow, pulling me from my car.

_Edward, Bela is standing by a truck across the car park with his friends. We need to test your resistance, _Alice thought, looking up into my eyes gravely. She held a tight grip on one of my arms and nodded to Emmett, who took the other. We swivelled around inconspicuously so that I faced Bela. He was leaning against the side of a glossy black truck, looking down at his shoes. A group of people stood near him but their bodies angled away, showing his position in the group -- low. He lifted his head slowly and the wind picked up slightly, carrying his scent over to me like the hand of the devil tempting me to take a bite. Just one bite. Into rosy apple cheeks. To glut myself on blood as sweet as honey and to soothe the burn I could feel rising in my throat. It scorched and tore at me, making memories of the keenest pain I'd ever felt rise in my mind, driving me to seek a release. My gums started to ache and my teeth begged to sink into something. My sight narrowed in on my prey, a defenceless human boy who stood awkwardly by a truck on the fringe of his peers. He wouldn't be missed, only by very few. My decision was nearly made. I began to take a step because witnesses didn't bother me and Alice and Emmett could not hold me. His eyes. Bela's eyes. They stared directly at me. They bore straight through me. I was naked in his sight and he could see all of me, whatever remained of my tattered and black soul was smoothed and spread out to fill my body in his gaze. The haze of the bloodlust began to drain as I stood fixed in the fearless and penetrating stare of the human boy. Alice was right. I would not harm him. There is something to him, something to discover. He held a power over me that I could not dispute. Usually the thought would disgust me, prick my pride, but there was more to this boy. He was a beautiful puzzle and I ached to solve it. I felt Alice and Emmett's hands drop from their vice-like grip on my arms.

_You'll have to wait til English, Edward. Third period, _Alice reminded me. I growled under my breath. The bell rang and Bela's eyes released their hold on mine with a snap. He slowly walked into the school with his head down. I followed behind, cursing and praying for the hours to pass swiftly until I could speak to him properly.

They didn't.

Two hours is nothing to a vampire. Our immortality renders the passing of time superfluous and we measure it only to fit the characters of mortals that we play. Yet the two hours I needed to wait so that I could speak to Bela seemed to me to be the longest two hours ever measured. The line of time extended and stretched into the future with no end in sight. But I was not wasteful. I used the minutes that crept by to scan the minds of those around me. Not for amusement or prying curiosity; I was searching. I harboured inside the human children's minds like a parasite, feasting on any information they could give me about Bela. I received very little. Obsessively I flicked through thoughts, hopping from one subconscious to the next, rifling through images, ideas, designs, hopes, fears, ill will, paranoia, insecurities and misplaced confidence. But I could find nothing. I could recite reams of tidbits and gossip about many of Forks' High School students from what I learnt in the two hours I impatiently waited, but I could say nothing of Bela. That was until I reached a small classroom in the corner of the school's main building, the ground floor. And only one thought did I hear: _He's so kind. _Said by one Miss Angela Weber, daughter of a minister. An exceptional human only inasmuch that her head was not filled with the same bilious thoughts as her inmates. Well, not _as_ filled. She had seen a shiny watch lying on the floor, directly underneath the heel of Lauren Mallory's stiletto heeled shoes. It was her birthday and for the occasion she wore expensive shoes and a dress. The watch was a gift from one of her friends and it had slipped out of her handbag. She rocked back on her chair, but before she moved back so all four legs were on the ground and her pointed heel connected with the face of her gift a hand shot into view and slid the watch out the way, picked it up and slipped it back into her bag. The hand belonged to Bela and Angela Weber, his friend, was the only person in the room who noticed his good deed.

Thus I now knew four things about Bela Swan -- he was kind; he was observant (He must have been to have spotted the watch on the floor from where he had been sitting. It was directly in Angela's eyeline but he was to the side, right beside Lauren.); he did not perform good deeds for thanks or rewards, but simply because it is the _kind_ thing to do; and he was clumsy. The hand that shot out initially misjudged and pushed the watch slightly more under Lauren's heel. Bela also fumbled when picking it up and nearly caught his finger when Lauren's heel began its descent. Combined with my knowledge of his head injury received last week, I felt confident to declare Bela clumsy. A trait that was far more dangerous than he could possibly think, and one which I must be vigilant in monitoring to avoid the spilling of his blood.

Finally the two hours waned and I walked into the English room with a lungful of clean air and swiftly found an empty chair next to Bela. Alice assured me it was vacant, left for me.

I settled into the seat, pulling out my required books and stationary. Bela sat stiffly beside me. I could see his jaw clenched, his neck muscles tight. His adam's apple bobbed up and down, indecisive as to where it wished to sit. I leaned back in my chair, my posture a fabrication of ease and tranquillity. Inside my mind ran through a thousand possibilities to begin communicating with this boy, but I rejected them all.

"So you're Edward Cullen, right?" Bela asked in a quiet voice. He was also brave.

"Yes," I replied, exhaling the air pure of Bela's scent from my lungs. Which now meant that all the air I inhaled would be tainted, yet I needed air in my lungs to converse with him. I gritted my teeth and inhaled. My lungs expanded with the collection of gases that compiled the atmosphere and my throat burnt with the fierceness of a raging inferno. But I endured it and did not move. I fought the desire, the lust, the urge. I thrust it down and buried it. I cupped my right hand around my thigh and gripped it, choosing to use my own flesh as the only outlet I allowed myself.

"And you're Bela?" I asked him, turning my head slightly and trying to keep my tone light and face open. But I feared I did not accomplish it judging from the frown that rose on Bela's clear face. His eyes became stormy in confusion. I found myself taking note of every twitch and spasm in his face in order to interpret his thoughts, but the brick wall that surrounded his mind still denied me access and I cursed it.

"Yes. How did you know who I was?" His head tilted slightly and his left eyelid flickered, making me wonder what that indicated.

"My sister. She has history with you, does she not?" He nodded. "She pointed you out in the hallway," I explained, constructing the situation out of the air so heavy with Bela's scent.

"Oh," he replied, his eyebrows raised slightly in understanding and acceptance. A timid smile sprouted from his mouth and he turned to face the front of the class as the English teacher stepped into the room.

She began her lesson, rattling off what she was told to rattle off while looking around at the classroom full of minds it was her duty to mould. Inside her own mind she was screaming. She wrote the tasks on her shiny white board and we pulled out our Shakespeare plays that the government felt told us all we needed to know about sixteenth century plays. Because that is what the historians told them. William Shakespeare knew how to write a crowd pleaser -- and a monarch pleaser. I heard a sigh next to me. I turned toward Bela. He was writing a quote from the text down on note paper, his forehead weighed down with a frown and his lip caught between his teeth. I analysed his face to deduce whether he was concentrating hard or rather was very frustrated. He released his lip and pursed it slightly and I decided to go for frustration.

"Are you having any difficulty?" I asked in a low voice, even though I knew the teacher didn't particularly care whether we talked amongst ourselves as long as we were discreet. Bela lifted his head and looked at me, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide.

"Why do you think I'm struggling?" he asked, matching my tone, yet there was a softness beneath it that mine lacked. People would remark in their thoughts my voice was smooth and fluid, but my voice had a deep resonance that Bela just didn't have. His voice was not high pitched or effeminate, just quiet with a considerate quality to his tone.

"You sighed and you were frowning, I thought perhaps you needed some help understanding the language," I replied reasonably, wondering whether the intense look he was giving me was intimating a feeling of being insulted.

"I sighed because I'm bored, and these questions are a waste of time." Strength entered his voice, yet his tone was as hushed as ever.

"You don't like Shakespeare?" I tilted my head, waiting for him to answer. I had thought him a book lover, but perhaps he didn't care for long dead playwrights or the classics.

"I do, but... I just don't think this is the best way to teach it," he said delicately, shrugging one shoulder awkwardly. He pulled his left arm into his lap and wrapped his right arm across his body, clutching his elbow. He turned away from me and looked sadly down at his paper. I burnt with the want to ask question after question. But his body language appeared to be warding me off, although I could not tell for sure. I settled to tread the middle ground and ask a question relating to Shakespeare but not a reference to his previous statement.

"Which is your favourite play?" I inquired, attempting to draw him out. My predatory nature was being used in a different way, a different web spinning than one I had spun before.

"Hamlet," he replied, the very play we were studying now. He looked down at his text and smiled slightly. I noticed it was heavily annotated and appeared to be his own copy. I wanted to know whether those annotations were made since the class began studying it or before when he read it for pleasure.

"How about you? What's your favourite?" he asked, although his head was still bent down.

"I'm more of a Christopher Marlowe follower," I answered. He turned toward me, a light in his eyes. The light of interest.

"Really?" His tone was slightly higher, almost reverent.

"Yes. Although Hamlet's good too, I suppose." I shrugged.

"Which Marlowe play?" he said demandingly. I raised my eyebrows slightly, taken aback by his eagerness.

"Have you heard of 'The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus'?" I asked. I couldn't but doubt whether he had though. He grinned in response and nodded happily. I found myself smiling too. The burn had not abated, it had not diminished, but I could feel the iron band of my self-control around it, and I was glad. Because I had made someone smile without knowing how.

"Have you read it?" I asked with interest, the minds and worlds around me forgotten.

"Many times," he answered with an enthusiastic nod of the head. Once again the questions mounted up and I believed there would not be enough time in the world for me to ask them all, or to choose which to start with. I merely found myself smiling at this curious little human who fascinated me, tempted me and scared me.

"You're different," he stated. If I had blood it would have run cold.

"What do you mean?" I asked hesitantly.

"Most people ask about my name when first meeting me, you haven't mentioned it at all," he answered curiously. I released my tense muscles in my shoulders as relief rippled down my back.

"Oh, well I just assumed you were part Hungarian?" I said nonchalently.

"Nope," he replied, shaking his head and smiling.

"Uh, your parents liked Bela Lugosi?" I guessed.

"No, my parents were not followers of early twenty first century horror films," he said in an wry tone with a slight smirk, making me wonder what his parent _were_ into. He paused and that tempting red mist bloomed in his cheeks. I felt the thirst flare and the iron band of my will expand from the heat. "My mom fancied the gymnast Bela Karolyi," he confessed, looking down red-faced in embarrassment. He flicked a glance at me out the corner of his eye to test my reaction. However, I was out of air. I dared not breathe in. His flushed cheeks so close to me were a great temptation and I had no wish to ruin such a revelatory conversation by murdering him. I merely gave him a tight smile and nodded. I returned to my work and attempted to lose myself in Hamlet's own personal hell through his pretence of madness and his self denial until the bell went.

When it finally rang, I was quick out of my seat, yet still excruciatingly restrained when all I wished to do was fly out of the room. I made sure to turn and smile a goodbye at Bela before I left because I did not wish to offend him. I was trying to save him. He held his hand up and nodded, a small smile on his face in return.

I sped through the strobe lighted corridors of the school, all with their regimented lockers and doors where small little boxes of learning lay behind, filled with underdeveloped humans who were meant to discover passion, enthusiasm and ambition for life there. In my experience they rarely found it.

I burst out the doors of the school and I breathed in the clean air, my head turned heavenward. Yet blood was all around me, in every particle, in every molecule I consumed it and it consumed me. I wanted it no more. I wanted what I had just run from. I wanted conversation with a like minded person, a human occurrence. I wanted it so much it hurt and became an ache deep in my chest, heavy like a stone.

Yet I had done something today I never had done before, or thought I would ever do. I had made a connection. The fact I wasn't able to read his mind may have helped, despite the frustrating element to it. But it was someone who I felt quite possibly I could make a deep connection to. Alice was right. I did like him. I only prayed I had not misjudged him.

There was a lingering feeling at the back of my mind that niggled me. There was a connection being formed between us -- the potency of his blood, his closed off mind, the possibility of sharing similar tastes and interests.

I wondered just how deep this bond would run and what I was to do about it.

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**A/N: So there it is-- hope you guys like it. Reviews would be oh so good, and I'd love for you guys to check out the thread. Link on my profile.**

**Thank you for reading.  
**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: WARNING: MENTION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT AND VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER BUT NO EXPLICIT DETAIL**

**I'll let you read if you're eager but I have news, so I'll put it at the bottom.**

**Thank you christine for being a wonderful beta, and listening to my rambling crap.  
**

**Thank you thatwritr for putting this chapter on the straight and narrow.**

**Thank you jennday for looking over this with your warning radar.**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.  
**

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Rose was leaving and this time she meant it.

Or so she said.

I wasn't sure -- her mind was a crush of thoughts, desires and fears all melting into each other. She couldn't think clearly and I was sinking into the maze of her neurosis.

Alice was shuffling through visions so quickly she had to rest her head against the wall, and Jasper had been so swept up in the feelings of anger, resentment, sorrow and guilt that he'd fled ten minutes ago. He hadn't wanted to but Alice had made him; the absence of his innate volatility gave her some modicum of relief from her overwhelming premonitions.

"What gives _you_ the right? Who made _you _God?!" Rosalie screeched at Carlisle, the tendons in her neck straining to pop out from under her stone skin. Her hands clenched into claws.

Esme was sobbing, her dry face scrunched and creased in misery and frustration.

Carlisle stood like a condemned man. With his head hanging down, he stared at the tops of his shoes listening to her anger. His face was smooth, perfect. He didn't even flinch. Carlisle bore Rosalie's rants as his penance for saving her life. And for taking it away.

But I detected venom in his mind. Buried deep, beneath all his thoughts of acceptance and understanding, a small shoot of bitterness was growing. Leaves of dislike were unfurling, drinking in Rosalie's spite and storing it away.

I could not help but feel she deserved it.

Emmett stood next to Esme and said nothing, just looked sadly at the woman he loved. The woman who hated herself as much, if not more than she loved him.

This was us reaping what we sowed.

This was us paying the price.

This was us lamenting.

Cries of frustration burst out of Rosalie's lips as she brought her hands up to her face. Her shoulders hunched as sorrow pooled into her open hands. Carlisle lifted his head, seeing the storm was over. Tentatively he stepped forward and embraced her, holding his child to him as though he could absorb her pain, as though he could make her free.

But even as he rocked her gently from left to right, made soothing noises in her ear and held her close, that little shoot was sprouting and he could not quite stop the dark little voice from whispering in his mind.

_I turned her for Edward _… _maybe she should go...._

The voice was cold and hissed in spite, and Carlisle listened to it only momentarily before burying himself in placating his daughter. Although he had began to feel perhaps she _was_ a mistake, an error of judgement.

The splinters and fractures of my family's bones were growing, and there was nothing I could do.

Rose heaved dry sobs into the crook of Carlisle's neck as Esme held Emmett's large hand in both of hers, resting her face against his arm with a relieved smile on her face and closed eyes. Jasper lay on the forest floor, clutching a boulder and praying fervently as water fell on his prone form like ash while Alice slowly opened her eyes, crept lightly out of the lounge and glided stealthily up the stairs to my room.

She found me sitting in a chair by the window, watching both the rain fall down and my family fall apart just that little bit more.

Alice crossed my room, padding barefoot over to my chair. Silently she perched on the armrest and watched the rain fall on the forest with me.

I reached for the remote to my stereo and turned the volume up, preferring to listen to Nick Drake's gentle tones than the pained thoughts of those below me.

Alice, however, I was prepared to listen to -- when she was ready.

The expression on her face was a mask of contentment. My little sister was always bright, her eyes shining with plans and schemes.

It was completely unintentional.

Alice did not see this world; she saw paths, possibilities and potential. She also saw mistakes. She loved this family. It was the only one she'd ever known. She couldn't bear to lose it because someone had made the wrong decision.

That was why inside her mind she was begging me.

_Please, Edward._

She carried on looking steadily out the window and moved not one muscle when I resolutely said, "No, Alice."

_Please, _she implored once more.

I sighed in irritation at her continued pleas. They'd been directed at me ever since she opened her eyes downstairs.

I shook my head, refusing to answer vocally.

_Edward, if you don't,_ _Rosalie will leave us. She'll take Emmett with her, and we won't see them for another eighty-two years._

She turned toward me then and she looked just like a little girl. Her eyes were large and sad, her mouth pouting slightly and her eyebrows drawn together.

I nodded and she smiled in relief at me, a hushed thank you sounded in her mind. She slid onto my lap and nudged me until my right arm fell around her shoulders and she huddled into my side.

I curved my arm around her slight frame and listened to her sing along to 'Things Behind the Sun' in her head.

I let song lyrics drift around me. I let Alice bring her arms around and hold me to her. I let myself accept whatever I heard, and the more I accepted the scattered thoughts of my family, the less I heard them.

I closed my eyes and felt peace. Jasper came into my room before the song waned to share the tranquillity emanating from me. He sat on the floor with his head resting in Alice's lap and as she lay against me, she combed her fingers through Jasper's hair.

We were caught in a trance that I had no wish to leave.

But I had to. When I felt Alice raise her head I opened my eyes, nodded at the reminder of a promise in her mind and rose. Jasper took my place and I left their warm companionship for Rosalie's cold hostility.

She was sitting on her and Emmett's bed, her knees tucked up and her arms wrapped around them. Rocking in her fetal position, her head was hidden in the space between her kneecaps and chest. Her mind a maelstrom of thoughts, she was sitting in the eye of her own emotional storm.

She knew I was behind her though and I was surprised to hear acceptance in her mind. To hear welcome.

_Okay._

It was almost breathed, like a relenting sigh. Rose had given up, and I understood why Alice had pleaded with me to go see her. And why Rose agreed.

I sat next to her, my hands clutched together awkwardly as they rested in my lap. Slowly she lifted her face, uncurled her legs and released her vice-like grip on her knees. We were both looking down, both silent. Rose was nervous, her mind a stream of fear that I was struggling to interpret.

But I understood her.

How could I not?

I had heard nearly every thought that had run through her head for the past seventy five years, every good, bad, ugly and beautiful thought. I knew how she felt, how she thought, what she believed, what she liked and what she disliked. The one-sided intimacy between us was awkward and unpleasant at times. Rosalie hated how much I knew and how much I had seen.

Even during the time of her 'change' and directly after, the attack was branded upon her mind and consumed her just as much as the fire of the venom had. And even as the memories blurred and faded, as human memories are wont to do, Rosalie still remembered. She felt stuck, not just physically frozen as an eighteen year old. But mentally and emotionally she was still a terrified eighteen year old whose first experience of sex was forced painfully upon her.

She died because of her beauty, and she was saved because of it as well.

Carlisle saw a girl dying in the alleyway, she was beautiful and he thought she would suit me. He knew nothing about her. He had no idea what manner of person she was. To him she was worth saving purely because of how she looked, even under the blood and tears.

Rosalie looked up at me then, and I slowly walked toward her.

"I hate him," she said weakly.

"No, you don't," I replied calmly. A sneer crossed her face and the retort, _How would you know? _flashed through her mind as she realized I _would_ know. She couldn't lie to me.

"I don't hate him but I resent him," she amended bitterly, looking off to the side of me. I stayed silent.

"How can someone be so arrogant as to think they can choose who should be turned into this?" she said with her voice rising, her arms outstretched in display of what she was. What we all were. Still I said nothing.

"Yes, in some ways I'm grateful. I have Emmett, I love him. Completely. But-- do you have any idea how frustrating and upsetting it is to feel fear when the man you love looks at you with desire? When he begins to touch you? I shouldn't fucking feel that way! I love and want Emmett... but my head doesn't work alongside my heart and I-- I can't stop feeling so fucking afraid!" Rosalie cried before burying her head into her folded arms to heave dry sobs once more.

I did have an idea. I heard her scared thoughts, her self chastisement for them. And I heard Emmett's sadness that instead of making Rosalie feel loved and wanted he'd scared her. They always worked past it, they were intimate often and Rosalie enjoyed it. But her first reaction to fear and not to trust angered her. And after seventy-three years of being with Emmett, making love to Emmett, that ever constant fear was wearing on her.

She couldn't blame Royce -- he'd died long ago -- but she could blame Carlisle. If it wasn't for Carlisle she wouldn't be living the way she did now. Playing at being a human child, struggling to accept she would never be a mother. And she would always feel afraid.

"Rosalie, I-- I know you well. Probably better than anyone. As much as you hate it, my gift_ allows_ me to know you so well. So, you can talk to me. Whenever you want, I'll understand," I said awkwardly, my hands in my pockets and my eyes flittering around the room. Even though my offer was completely sincere I doubted Rosalie would look upon it favourably.

I was therefore surprised when her mind didn't reject my offer straight away, just politely declined it.

_Thank you, Edward, but... I don't think I'm going to be around much for awhile._

"What do you mean? Alice said if I came and talked to you, you wouldn't leave," I said, confused.

Rose lifted her head. _That's the only reason you came? Alice made you?_

"Well, yes, but-- I knew it was the right thing to do. I... I don't want you and Emmett to go either. We're a family," I said quietly, looking solemnly at her with awkwardly held arms.

"You left," she calmly pointed out, looking steadily at me.

"I was young then," I said dismissively with a slight shake of my head.

_Well I feel old, and I can't stay here anymore. Carlisle may act like my father but he __**isn't**__. I'm an adult and I no longer want to live under his rules and his house. I don't even know how Jasper can stand it. _She rested her cheek against her tucked up knees, gazing out her window.

"He's not a tyrant, Rosalie. Someone has to take the lead and he's the eldest," I reasoned, gesturing with my hand toward her.

_Just because he's older doesn't mean he knows best. Doesn't mean he always makes the best decisions. Edward, do you really think it's wise to turn a girl who's just been brutally raped by three men, and a woman who threw herself off a cliff because her child died? Why would she want eternity grieving?_

I couldn't deny Rose was right. I felt the same way when I heard Esme's thoughts, heard her pain. When I heard Rosalie begin to panic when Emmett would suddenly grab her and kiss her passionately. He thought his consistently strong love and desire for her would help heal her, remove her insecurities and fears. It didn't work, it never did.

I nodded at her, silently agreeing lest Carlisle should hear. I felt like I was betraying him, but I could not help how I felt.

Silence fell between us, vocally at least. Memories were running swiftly through Rosalie's head, memories of Carlisle, memories of Emmett, memories of Royce. And memories of me.

"I know that-- I know we haven't always gotten on. I know I haven't always been fair to you," she said, her head shifting so she could look at me once more. Her face was solemn.

"I haven't always been fair to you either," I murmured. Rosalie nodded as a slight smile graced her face.

"I don't want to put my pain on everyone anymore," she whispered, her eyes desperate.

"I don't mean to," she suddenly said, as though she needed to convince me.

"I know," I reassured her.

"But I can't help it... I just.... I get so _angry_, and frustrated. I just want to get rid of it, all of it." Rosalie felt hopeless. She had received no proper counselling. At the time she couldn't because she was a newborn, and had refused it when her thirst was controlled. She never spoke of it to anyone, Emmett occasionally. And now, well now it was too late.

"I'm sorry." My words were heavy with regret and it was with difficulty I looked Rosalie in the eye.

Her face naturally austere, it gave little away. But the slight turn at the corner of her mouth and the geniality of her thoughts that accompanied this new intimacy Rosalie and I had suddenly developed told me I was forgiven. I knew Carlisle was not, though.

"Are you really going to leave?" I asked her with concern. My family was a concrete and stable web that I knew I could fall back on. It was I that had left, none of the others had. But that web was fragile and delicate. I could feel the strands begin to stretch and snap beneath me. I knew I would feel Rose and Emmett's loss keenly, just as much as I would feel relief. It would be two less minds with fleet footed thoughts to intrude upon me.

And I could not deny the absence of Rosalie's fractious personality would be welcome.

Rose sighed before breathing, "I don't know. I need to think about it. And I need to talk to Emmett." I nodded. She turned her head away to stare out her window, with harsh rain beating against the pane. I backed out slowly, uttering quietly, "I'll leave you to think. I need to... I have to go now anyway."

With her eyes averted she smiled tightly, _Good Luck Edward, be careful. _"I will," I replied, surprised at her remark. Not just that she knew where I was going, but that she had no snide or disparaging remark.

I shut the door to Rose and Emmett's room, leaving her mired in memories. I passed Emmett as I drifted down the hall. He gave me a smile and a silent _Thank you _before opening the bedroom door to his Rose.

I walked through the corridors and hallways of my home, down stairs and past doorways. Jasper and Alice were still silent statues before my bedroom window. Carlisle and Esme clung together desperately in the living room, seeking solace in each others' arms. Esme murmured placating words into Carlisle's ear.

"It's not your fault."

"She'll calm down."

"I'm glad you changed me."

Carlisle believed none of them and neither did Esme.

As I left the house I thought about love. The love I saw, had seen, and felt.

Esme loved Carlisle, and he loved her. Of that I was sure. I heard the reaffirmations of that devotion in their minds often. Yet recently I had noticed a certain discrepancy in their thoughts in relation to their actions. Esme had begun to believe Carlisle's conviction that changing someone if they are dying is the right thing to do. She did not see how he had the right to save someone from dying, forcing them into immortality.

There was a trickle in Esme's mind of thoughts that had lost faith in Carlisle. A very small trickle, but present nonetheless.

Between the bitter timbre of Carlisle's thoughts about Rosalie and Esme losing confidence in him, disregarding my own personal disagreements I found myself developing, I was getting worried. I felt a change coming. I was not sure I had connected to Rosalie enough to negate Alice's vision.

However, as I left thinning forestry and approached a small dark window set in a white house, bluey grey in the darkness, my concern for my family fell away from me.

I scaled the wood-panelled wall, nimbly slid open the window and slipped into the moonlit room.

I had stopped my breathing and as always, when taking a breath of Bela's scent, my throat was torn to shreds as fire raced up my throat and raged along my tongue. I stood with fists clenched by my sides and my teeth gritted. My eyes were squeezed tightly closed and I clung to as much humanity as I could summon in that moment. That hazy, urgent moment, when all I wished to do was tear the sleeping form before me to pieces and glut myself on the warm soothing liquid flowing within it.

I remembered scared eyes in the dark, right before I lowered my mouth to their bared throat and drank deeply. I did not want to be that again.

_NO._

I refused to be that again, that monster and murderer. I was firmly on the road to hell; I did not need to condemn myself further. It was of no importance those scared eyes in the dark belonged to a pathetic little man, peeing his pants in fear when I threw him off a terrified young girl he'd pinned to the wall. I'd told her to run before I'd become a wild animal with manic eyes and fed on him. He thought I was Satan.

He was right. A devil stood in a young boy's room trying to kill its own nature. It was the only thing I wanted to die.

Bela breathed soft snores beneath a blue quilt. He lay on his stomach, his arms on top of the covers by his sides and his fingers loosely curled into his palms like shells. He wore no shirt to bed, his bare back pale and softly defined. Brushes of shadow highlighted his ribs and spine, a very light smattering of spots on his shoulders. Freckles dusted his neck, but were so pale I doubted a human eye could discern them.

I watched him for awhile. His peaceful sleep and his father's rhythmic snores accompanied by the convoluted images of his dreams, calmed me. My fight against myself slowly died down as I fed off the peace the inhabitants of this house were cocooned in.

I retreated to a rocking chair in the corner and checked my watch. It took me thirty three minutes and forty six seconds to get my thirst under control. Longer without Alice being present, but I still felt proud. I allowed a quiet smile to spread across my face.

From my seat I could discern some of Bela's features hidden beneath his thickly fallen hair. Strands fluttered into the air as he breathed out of his mouth before settling down once more.

I glanced around the shadowed room, and settled on his bookcase against the wall perpendicular to my seat. I skimmed the titles eagerly, my conversation with Bela in English earlier that day rising to the front of my cluttered mind.

Sure enough there were Shakespeare plays. Marlowe, too. He also was a collector of Emily Dickinson and William Blake. The presence of some Wilkie Collins, Mary Shelley, Bram Stoker and Stevenson's 'Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde' made me wince. It disturbed me that he appeared to have a predilection for the supernatural. And yet, the possibility it may make things smoother, his acceptance easier should he ever find out what I was, cropped up in my stream of thoughts. I could not deny that I hoped it would help, but I did not examine it too closely, nor cultivate it.

I pulled a volume of Blake's work off the shelf, my arm long enough to reach and the creak of the rocking chair quite soft.

I began to read, despite having already read it twice many years ago.

Half formed utterings of words shook me from my reading. I had learnt to block out the murmurs of people thoughts, the distorted flickering images and ideas, but words spoken aloud in a room which should be silent startled me.

It was Bela, mumbling in his sleep. I knew of this, knew of humans doing this. It intrigued me but I ignored it and returned to my passage.

"Ah didden'-"

I swung my head up to look at him, the words thick with sleep and clumsily pronounced. It sounded like he was awake, yet his shut eyes and even breathing told me otherwise. I frowned and closed the book, replacing it on the bookcase. I watched Bela, waiting for movement, for more words. Careful to flee should he awaken, I knew I could slip out his bedroom door, down the stairs and out the front door before he could blink. He would never know I was here.

Throughout the rest of the night, as the sky flushed pink with the start of yet another day I watched Bella mumble, fidget and twitch. I found myself torn between envy for his body's naturally human impulses I lacked and curiosity for why he was so active a sleeper.

When six o'clock rolled around I rose from the rocking chair and walked silently to the window, just as I was about to lower the pane from the outside of the house, gripping the windowsill and pressing my toes against the outside of the house for balance, a soft sigh left Bela's lips. It was breathed contentedly and transfixed me utterly. I was not sure, I could not say for certain, but it sounded so very similar to 'Edward'.

I slid the window down with one hand, leapt to the ground and ran home.

All the while replaying and analysing that tiny insignificant pant of air that floated from a young boy's mouth.

As wet green moss sludged under my swift steps and I bounded off rocks and tree roots, I wondered why it felt important, very important, that the boy, that Bela said my name. I had enjoyed our conversation earlier in the day. I planned to have more similar. Yet--

I had not had a human friend in ninety years, and I had absolutely no idea how to go about having one now.

Snatches of conversation in English lessons over mutual dislike of the educational system and unappreciated playwrights did not seem enough to me. I wanted more, to strengthen the connection to another person I so rarely felt but could under no circumstances disregard.

I hoped to find a way to realise these desires in reality.

My pace slowed as I drew near my home, trees growing sparse and bushes sprouting more freely as the wild forest floor met our neat garden lawn.

However a subversion of before, as I stood outside Bela's window and forgot my worries over my family, I was overwhelmed with them as I approached my home.

There were two less people in the house, and all I could hear was pain.

As I walked cautiously through the front door Alice stepped out of the dining room and into my arms. They folded around her like wings of their own accord.

"There's a letter for you," she whispered sadly, her thoughts a jumble of sorrow, pain, worry and fear. I looked for hope, but unlike Pandora's Box there was none.

An image of a white envelope set against the polished dark brown wood of the dining room rose in her mind and I released her.

The dining room was empty. Jasper had joined Alice by the back door as soon as I left her, and Esme and Carlisle were in their room, enveloping each other in their arms and legs while whispering comforts to each other that were no comfort at all. They changed nothing.

Gripping the other too tightly, staring into the others' eyes too deeply. Hoping the other would save them from that long fall they felt they were slipping into. One fact still remained, still tore at their insides in a way the fire of the thirst never could.

Rosalie and Emmett were gone.

I tore the top seam of the envelope open with a fingernail and pulled out the small slip of paper.

I read it quickly; not much was written. I let it fall from my hand to flit to the tabletop like the white feather given to cowards. Rosalie's black inked words of parting stared up at me and I wondered what, just precisely, they meant:

_'See you soon, Edward.'_

_

* * *

_**A/N: So yeah, I'd love to hear your thoughts, sorry it took so long but I rewrote most of it and updated my AH twice in a week.**

**THIS STORY HAS BEEN NOMINATED FOR AN INDIE AWARD!!!!!!**

**I love everyone who voted for me and if you continue to do so I will love you even more. This story is in WIP Best Non ExB Category. (Just like to say I'm so fricking humbled by that, especially considering who I share the category with.)**

**Here is the page: http(dot)//theindietwificawards(dot)com/voteround2(dot)aspx**

**ALSO mine and cdunbar's Exploration of the Senses Contest is still open, send us your entries!!! We've had some funny ones, some beautiful ones and some smutty ones. We want whatever your mind can think up!**

**Oh and umm, I wrote a crackpoem. Lol blame jennday. Read it if your curious....**

**Thank you for reading and I hope to update a lot quicker!  
**


	6. I'm Sorry

**I'm sorry.**

**Really sorry.**

**I'm one of _those_ writers.**

**You know the kind we hate where they start a second story then out it on hiatus and it's really annoying and you want to yell at them for starting a story they didn't have time for.**

**So yeah.....**

**That's what this A/N is about, it's not a chapter I'm afraid.**

**I did start the next chapter but it was so horrendous I got really stressed and just confirmed my suspicions that I can't write two stories at the same time and keep up with my actual real life job.**

**Plus TATH is getting to the gritty moments and I keep getting all these ideas for it, and like nothing for BITCH. Seriously, all ym enthusiasm and ideas for this story have completely fucking disappeared.**

**So I'm putting this on hiatus and will update when the mood takes me. And once TATH has finished of course.**

**Obviously don't review this so I can put the next actual chapter here when it's time. But you can PM me to tell me how annoying it is when writers do this. And that you hope bad things happen to me. Because they should.**

**Thank you for following this story thus far, and I hope you continue when I resume it.**

**Helena x  
**


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